


Mild-Mannered Military Man

by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel



Category: Captain Marvel (Comics), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), Young Avengers
Genre: AU, Clint pines, Coulson used to be an army ranger, IM2 didn't happen, M/M, Pop Star AU, band au, but Coulson is still a secret agent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 11:22:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/939398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel/pseuds/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Clint was eighteen, he fell madly in love with his army ranger neighbour. Three years later his band, Hawkeye, rode to superstardom on the back of their best-selling single. This might have been less embarrassing if the song hadn't been about Phil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mild-Mannered Military Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raiining](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiining/gifts).



> So, this is for raiining. I love her fics, and she posted on her tumblr that her birthday is coming up, so. I quickly wrote a fic. Raiining, I hope you like it.

** Mild-Mannered Military Man **

The year Clint turned eighteen was a year full of firsts. It was the first time he had a place of his own, even if it was just a tiny, crappy apartment; the year he first joined a band, putting his reasonably good skills with a guitar to use; and the year he fell in love for the very first time.

The fact that these all occurred together would later be significant.

* * *

Clint checked his watch. If he timed this right, Phil would be coming out to get his mail any moment now. Nodding to himself, Clint rearranged the bag of groceries and headed for his apartment.

He was just in front of his door when door next to his opened, and Clint's neighbour appeared.

Phil Coulson was an army ranger, home from serving overseas. He had fairish hair and bright blue eyes, and the most beautiful smile Clint had ever seen. He was mild-mannered and pleasant, usually willing to stop to chat, and pretty much the embodiment of a dream as far as Clint was concerned. Clint had been smitten from the moment they first met in the stairwell.

"Morning, Phil," Clint said brightly, stopping to smile at his neighbour.

Phil smiled back, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and Clint practically swooned.

"Morning, Clint," Phil returned kindly. 

"Doing much today?" Clint asked him. For a guy who was basically on vacation Phil tended to keep pretty busy, fixing up his apartment or going to the store or heading to the gym to keep in shape.

Phil frowned a little.

"Well, my furlough's almost over, so mostly I'm getting my affairs in order before I have to leave again."

Clint almost dropped his groceries in his dismay.

"You're leaving?" he blurted.

Phil nodded.

"On the 27th." He smiled wryly. "I won't say it hasn't been good to get some decent down time, but I'll be glad to be back in the field again. I miss the excitement." Shaking his head, he met Clint's eyes squarely. "I wanted to thank you, for being as friendly as you've been. Most of my friends are the guys in my unit, who have all been busy catching up with their own families. It was nice to have someone to talk to, while I was on furlough."

"No - no problem," Clint stammered. "I mean, you're a great guy, Phil. It was nice to get to know you."

Phil smiled again. His teeth were perfect. Clint involuntarily sighed.

"You too, Clint. I'll see you later."

"Sure. I mean, yeah," Clint said awkwardly, and with a nod Phil vanished down the hallway.

Sighing heavily, Clint disconsolately went through his pocket for his keys, and unlocked his apartment door, feeling acutely depressed.

* * *

Phil moved out a week later. Clint spent the next couple of months mooning about in a funk, making a complete idiot of himself. In a fit of smitten misery he even wrote a song about Phil, proclaiming his love for his army ranger neighbour, rhapsodising abut his blue eyes, perfectly-ironed shirts, the way he drank his coffee, and his pleasant personality.

Eventually Clint moved on – he never forgot his handsome army ranger neighbour, but the intense blaze of infatuated feelings faded with time – but the damage, although Clint didn’t know it yet, was already done.

* * *

Clint didn’t really think about Phil’s song again for a couple of years. It ended up at the bottom of his box of scribbled song lyrics, almost forgotten. That was where Carol found it, two years later.

“ ‘ _When I was eighteen I lived next door To a mild-mannered army ranger,’_ ” she read aloud. “ ‘ _With the sweetest blue eyes and the brightest smile.’_ Clint, what _is_ this?” Carol asked, half-laughing. Clint made a grab for the page of lyrics, but Carol darted away before he could reach it.

“Give me that,” Clint growled, reddening with embarrassment as Carol read out more lyrics.

“Stop teasing him,” Jim advised.

“No, really,” Carol said, and although she was still grinning, she wasn’t laughing anymore. “It’s kind of cheesy, but it could work. Clint, is there a melody to go along with the words?”

So Clint ended up singing the first verse and the chorus, and by the time he got to the second verse Carol was nodding in approval while Jim and Thor were listening intently. Clint broke off.

“You can’t actually expect me to sing this,” he said.

“ _You?_ Pfft, no. I’ll sing it,” Carol retorted. She looked at Jim. “Rhodes?”

“It’s good,” Jim decided. “You’re right, if you sing it, it could work.”

“Aye,” Thor agreed. “It is a pleasing tune.”

Which was how _‘Mild-Mannered Military Man’_ became part of Hawkeye’s repertoire. 

They were signed to a record label later that year, which frankly astounded Clint. Their manager no sooner heard Carol belt out _‘Mild-Mannered Military Man’_ then he insisted that it had to be on Hawkeye’s debut album, and the label agreed.

Clint figured nothing much would come of it all; after all, how many bands, even signed to a label, actually really made it in the music industry?

* * *

The song shot straight to number one, and launched Hawkeye into international stardom. Hawkeye became crazy-famous, and Clint had to wear sunglasses and a fake moustache just to walk down the street without being mobbed.

Clint couldn’t believe it. Of all the songs on the album, what made _‘Mild-Mannered Military Man’_ so special? It was deeply perplexing to Clint, as well as somewhat embarrassing. Fortunately, Carol, Jim, and Thor were all willing to deflect questions whenever someone asked about the inspiration behind the song.

“It was inspired by the power of love stories!” Thor boomed, the first time someone asked. Clint tried not to look too obviously grateful while he was still on camera. “Those tales which capture the imagination and speak to the wishes of our own hearts!”

“It’s the kind of thing that happens to everyone,” said Jim, in another interview. “Cute neighbour moves in next door, you fall in love – most people have had an experience like that, you know? It resonates.”

“Um,” said Clint, the one time he was asked. He’d never been all that great at interviews. Carol always joked that it was best if he sat there and looked pretty.

“It’s a love song,” Carol quickly cut in. “They’re not that hard to come up with, are they, Clint?”

“Yeah,” Clint agreed, relieved. “Besides, Carol’s really the one who makes the song what it is, right? No one sings like our girl.”

“That is true indeed!” Thor enthused, and the interviewer moved on to different questions.

In the years that followed, _‘Mild-Mannered Military Man’_ was the song that everyone wanted to hear at concerts, the song that appeared on every Hawkeye greatest hits album, and on the compilations of best songs of the decade. It was voted one of the top 10 power ballads of all time, and it was one of iTunes’ most-downloaded hits ever. Carol’s powerful, soulful voice was unmistakeable, and the electric, compelling melody attracted new fans with every passing year. 

The band all knew the truth behind the song, but somehow, for twenty years, they managed to keep it from the rest of the world.

To be honest, Clint was getting sick of it – keeping the genesis of the song secret, all the interviews, the concerts… after so long, he was getting ready to quit the band, for good. He’d had a good run, had more money than he knew what to do with, and he was getting to the point where he wanted to settle down, put roots down somewhere and live a normal life. 

“You want me to replace you as a _lead singer of Hawkeye?_ ” Kate Bishop demanded, when he broached the subject over lunch.

“Shh, not so loud,” Clint told her. “Why not? You’re good, Katie-Kate, and Hawkeye could use someone a little younger. I talked to Jim and Carol and Thor about it, and they all think you’d do just fine.”

“Clint, I just _quit_ the Young Avengers,” Kate said. “Maybe I don’t want to rush straight in and join another band. Besides, rock’s more my scene, not, like, 80s teeny-bopper music, or whatever it is.”

“Early 90s was when we started, actually,” said Clint. “Anyway, that’s exactly why they could use you. Rock things up a little.”

Kate rolled her eyes.

“I’ll think about it. When are you planning on quitting, anyway?”

Clint shrugged.

“We’re doing this twenty year anniversary concert at the Stark Expo. Jim’s buddies with Stark, they went to college together or something, I don’t know. I’ll do the concert first, but then that’s it, I’m done.”

“Stark Expo?” Kate raised her eyebrows. “Not bad.”

“Yeah,” Clint sighed. “That’s pretty much what Carol thought, except she used the word ‘awesome.’”

* * *

“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” said Clint, as he and the others looked out from the giant stage.

“Shut up, you love it,” said Carol.

“No, really. I can’t believe I let you convince me. You know how I feel about being famous.”

“Do you still wear that fake moustache when you go out somewhere?” Jim asked. “Because it looks stupid, and I don’t know how anybody never guessed it was you.”

“I wear a hat now,” Clint told him.

“Look at it this way,” said Carol. “It’s one concert, and then it’s over. It’s not like you haven’t done this before.”

“Yeah, but not for a while,” Clint pointed out. “I’m tired of being famous. I always figured we’d stay playing gigs in bars until we all grew up and had actual lives, like adults. I never thought we’d get signed to a record label.”

“Right, because it’s not like you needed the money, or anything.”

“Rhodey! Honeybear!” a voice exclaimed jubilantly, and a guy in a purple suit with coloured sunglasses and a goatee strode towards them.

“Oh, God,” Jim muttered.

“ ‘Honeybear?’ ” Carol repeated, raising an eyebrow. Thor just gave Jim an amused look.

“Seriously? He calls you honeybear?” Clint asked under his breath.

“You say _one word_ and I’ll – hi, Tony,” Jim broke off to greet the eccentric billionaire as the man joined them.

“So, this is the band,” Tony Stark said, pushing his sunglasses down just far enough to look at everyone over the top of the lenses. “Tony Stark. Great to meet you, glad you could make it.”

“Are you kidding?” Carol asked. “This is for the _Stark Expo_.”

“Indeed, we are most excited to be here!” Thor told Stark.

“Oh great, like he needs more encouragement,” said Jim, but he was smiling.

Stark grinned.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, Rhodes. So, is everything good for you guys?” He gestured at the stage around them. “You’ve already talked to my people, right?”

“All seems good to me,” said Clint.

“It’s great, Tony,” said Jim. “Everyone seems great, and the stage is fine.”

“Cool.” Stark pushed his sunglasses back up his nose and waved a finger vaguely at Carol and Clint and Thor. “You three, any problems, let me know, okay? I already know Rhodey’ll bitch my ears off if anything isn’t exactly to his liking.”

“You better believe it,” said Jim dryly.

“Right. Okay, I’ll leave you guys to it, then.” And Stark slapped Jim on the shoulder, said "Let me know how it goes," and left.

"Is he always that.. exuberant?" Carol asked, after Stark was gone.

"It depends how much coffee he's had," Jim said sagely. "Okay, people, let's talk to the sound and tech guys, get our stuff set up."

Clint shrugged, and went to get his guitar.

* * *

The four of them were rehearsing when Stark reappeared near the end of one their songs. The band stopped playing, and Stark applauded.

"You guys are fantastic," he called out. With a sigh, Jim went to talk to him.

“Mr Stark,” a blandly-annoyed voice announced from just off-stage. Clint automatically glanced over to see who it was, wondering how they managed to sound bland and irritated at the same time, and felt the blood drain from his face.

Oh God. It was _him. Phil._

The man approaching Stark had a receding hairline, was wearing a tailored suit and had a slightly squarer face than in Clint’s memories, but the blue eyes and everything else were just the same. Clint swayed as panicked thoughts exploded in his brain.

When he wrote the song, he’d never expected the entire world to hear about his mad love for his army ranger neighbour. But it suddenly occurred to Clint that Phil must have heard the song, like everyone else, except that unlike everyone else he probably recognised himself in the lyrics and _knew exactly who the writer had to be._

Clint tried to hide behind Carol, which didn’t really work seeing as she was shorter than him. He bent his knees a little to lose a couple of inches. Thor looked over at him quizzically, and yeah, maybe he should have hidden behind Thor, but Thor was several metres away, and anyway, he was still sitting down behind the drum kit so Clint would have had to crouch down to hide behind him.

“Clint, what the hell?” Carol asked, and started to turn.

“ _Don’t turn around!_ ” Clint said frantically, clutching her arm.

“What is wrong with you? You’re being ridiculous,” said Carol, but she stayed where she was, even if she did roll her eyes, because Carol was a bro.

“It’s _him_. The guy I wrote the song about. It’s _the_ _mild mannered military man_ ,” Clint hissed.

Carol’s eyes widened, and she stared at Phil, who was talking to Stark with an impersonal smile that to Clint, didn’t quite disguise his annoyance.

“Seriously? That’s your dreamboat? He’s a… suit. And I think he’s losing his hair.”

“Shut up, shut up, just _help me_ ,” Clint moaned, too anxious and embarrassed to care about the criticism.

“What do you expect me to do?” Carol pointed out reasonably, so Clint stayed crouched behind Carol and tried to look inconspicuous.

Clint didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed when Phil didn’t so much as glance in his direction. He and Stark walked away, still talking, and Clint let out a long breath.

He quit trying to hide behind Carol, feeling oddly piqued.

“You want to explain why you were hiding behind Carol?” Jim asked, rejoining them.

“Apparently, the guy in the suit talking to Stark was Clint’s mild-mannered military man,” Carol enlightened him, looking amused.

Jim blinked, appearing mildly stunned.

“Wait, Agent Coulson? The SHIELD guy?” Jim blinked some more. “I’m assuming he used to have more hair.”

"I hate both of you," Clint told his friends, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh my God. I can't believe that was him. I haven't seen him since I was eighteen."

"And yet your adolescent love for him is immortalised in song," said Carol. "Funny how that works."

"You're not helping."

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't think he noticed you," Jim offered.

Clint hesitated, because while the idea of facing Phil was mortifying, it was also... kind of something Clint wanted. 

The truth was that, although no one else knew, not even the rest of Hawkeye, in all the years that had passed Clint had never quite gotten over his crush on Phil, even if he had moved on. Clint knew it was ridiculous, but that was how it was. Occasionally Clint had day-dreamed about running into Phil again, of being suave and charismatic and attractive. Sometimes he imagined things going so well that he confessed that _‘Mild-Mannered Military Man’_ had been written with Phil in mind (like Phil couldn’t possibly not know already) and Phil being touched by the gesture and agreeing to go on a date.

The Phil in Clint's imaginings, though, had still been a soldier, rugged around the edges and fresh from combat. He'd never expected Phil to be an agent (and an agent of what, exactly?) in a well-cut suit, any rough edges polished away, rubbing shoulders with people like Tony Stark. But coming face-to-face with the reality was enough to make Clint's imagined Phil suddenly seem inadequate. It was clear that Phil had changed over the years, and Clint wanted to get to know this new Phil, Agent Coulson, and find out how the army ranger had transitioned into the man he was now.

Clint was silent too long, and Carol noticed.

“Still got a crush, huh?” Carol smirked, goddamn her.

“Shut up, shut up, just shut up,” Clint begged, sticking his fingers in his ears. It didn’t work.

“I can’t believe that song is about Agent Coulson,” said Jim, ignoring Clint’s request. “Although, I guess I can see it, if I try really hard.”

“What is going on?” Thor called from where he was still sitting with the drums. “Do we resume rehearsal, friends?”

“The guy in the suit talking to Stark was Clint’s mild-mannered army ranger!” Carol called back, and Clint buried his head in his hands.

“Truly?” Thor bellowed. “He seemed to have aged well, and carried an air of mystery about him!”

“Fuck my life,” Clint groaned, as his bandmates got into a discussion of whether Phil was hot or not.

* * *

It turned out that Agent Coulson was working with Stark Industries as a SHIELD liaison, to make sure that nothing went wrong with the Expo. Apparently, with such a big, well-publicised event, they were concerned about security.

It meant that Clint kept seeing Phil around all the time. Fortunately, the agent was usually busy, so it wasn’t hard to avoid his attention, but every time Phil was nearby Clint felt flustered and self-conscious. He took to peering around furtively whenever he was out at the Expo site, afraid of running into Phil.

What if Phil didn’t remember him? What if he _did?_ What if he wasn’t into guys? What if he thought it was creepy that Clint had written a song about him? 

“For God’s sake, just talk to him,” recommended Carol, rolling her eyes.

“I don’t want to be weird,” Clint explained.

“Trust me, you’re already there,” Jim said dryly.

“My father has always said that a man must face that which he fears, or those fears shall haunt him all his life,” said Thor wisely.

“Thor, no offence to your dad, but I can’t take seriously anything said by a man named Odin Odinsson.”

Thor glared.

“Look,” Jim said, cutting off the fight before it could begin, “we’re all sick of the way you keep obsessing over the man. Either talk to him, or stop worrying about it. Pretend you don’t remember him, if you have to.”

Clint mumbled something defensive. Even he wasn’t sure what.

“Just sort it out,” Carol advised.

Clint wished it were that easy. 

* * *

As the Stark Expo launched, the media went crazy, and once the news got out that Hawkeye was performing - their final concert before Clint left the band - Clint found himself launched into a whirlwind of interviews and TV spots and general Hawkeye hysteria.

Once again, the band was questioned about _‘Mild-Mannered Military Man’_ , and Clint decided that was it. He was sick of avoiding this damn topic. The band had been fielding this question for twenty years, for heaven’s sake. And what did it matter in this day and age if Clint admitted he’d been madly in love with another dude? It wasn’t the 90s anymore, and Clint was quitting the industry, anyway, so what did he really have to lose?

“Actually,” Clint replied, “I wrote the song about the guy who used to live next door when I was eighteen.”

There was a stunned silence from the TV host, and a roar of exclamations from the studio audience, which turned into a round of cheers and applause.

“So…” their TV host began, once the whistles and yells died down again.

“Basically everything in the song is true,” Clint admitted. “And there’s some guy out there who knows I wrote a love song about him, which is kinda awkward.” There was some laughter from the audience. “But yeah, you wanted to know what the inspiration was, so there you go. After twenty years, the truth is out.”

There was another roar of approval from the audience, and the interview didn’t really get back on track after that. It ended with the TV host trying to pry more information out of Clint while Clint responded with smartass or monosyllabic answers.

The moment they were alone, Thor thumped Clint on the back in a friendly way that almost sent Clint sprawling. Sometimes Thor forgot that not everyone else was a muscular mountain of a man.

“My friend, I applaud your courage,” he said sincerely, beaming widely with all the good-natured charm of a golden retriever. “It is good that you feel that you can share your orientation with the world.”

“It’s not that big a deal,” Clint responded, shrugging. Carol raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re kidding, right?” said Jim. “Clint. This is going to be front-page news. You thought you were under scrutiny before? Trust me, it’s going to be twice as bad, now.”

“Yeah, but at least I don’t have to try and lie anymore,” Clint pointed out. “I’m leaving this entire industry, and I just wanted, I don’t know, to set the record straight before I go.”

Jim shook his head.

“Well, then, congratulations, man. What Thor said.” 

“Does this mean you’re going to talk to Coulson?” Carol wanted to know. Clint took a deep breath.

“Maybe,” he conceded.

“About time.”

* * *

The problem was, now Clint had decided to talk to Coulson, he couldn’t find the man anywhere.

In desperation, he even went and talked to Stark about it, one of the times the man dropped by to see how the rehearsals were going.

“Agent?” Stark blinked. “I think he got called away on an emergency mission. Sitwell’s covering for him. Why? Is there a problem with the security? Because I can–”

“No, no, it’s all good,” Clint assured him hurriedly. “I just wanted to talk to him, that was all.”

Stark eyed him suspiciously, but all the man said was, “He should be back in a few days.”

“Oh. Well, thanks.”

And Clint slunk away, trying not to feel disappointed and anxious.

* * *

The evening of the concert finally came. Everything was at its usual level of pre-performance chaos. Thor had to be talked out of drinking a glass of alcohol to calm his nerves, Carol kept complaining her dress was too tight and she wasn’t sure that the red went with the blue because they weren’t complementary colours, Jim was pissed about something technical to do with his keyboard, and Clint was just plain nervous as he gargled warm water and hummed scales to get his voice warmed up.

The moment they walked out on stage a wall of sound hit them: cheering, yelling, whistling, the usual shrieks of _“I love you!”_ from devoted fans. The moment he was out under the bright lights, seeing the joy of the audience, Clint’s anxiety suddenly vanished, leaving him confident and ready to do this. 

The band played all their major hits, a few of the B-sides that were a little less popular, and a couple of cover versions of other people’s songs. Clint’s rock version of _Poker Face_ made some people laugh, but most shouted approval as the electric guitar got going.

The very last song they played was _‘Mild-Mannered Military Man.’_ Normally it was Carol’s vocals only on that one, but after Clint’s revelation on national television about the origins of the song, they had decided to do something a little different this time.

Instead of Carol, it was Clint who crooned out the opening lines of the song, and as the crowd realised what was going on there were screams and hollers of encouragement. It was only when Clint launched into the chorus that Carol joined in, her throaty voice a counterpart to his. They sang the rest of the song as a duet, and when the band finally finished up, the audience went wild.

Clint beamed at everyone, pumping his fist in the air as Jim farewelled the crowd, thanking them all for coming and telling them to rock on.

As he left the stage, grinning wildly, Clint almost swallowed his tongue when he saw that not only was Stark there waiting for them, but Phil, as well.

Stark launched into a speech about how they’d nailed it out there, or something, but Clint wasn’t paying attention because Phil was stepping forward and offering a hand for Clint to shake. His heart pounding, Clint took it.

They shook hands.

"Phil Coulson," Phil smiled, and oh God, there was the _smile,_ Clint was doomed. "I don't know if you remember me, but-"

"You lived next door," Clint blurted, and felt himself flush in mortification.

"That's right." Phil was still smiling. "It's been a long time. I really wasn't sure if you'd remember me."

“Uh,” said Clint.

“Use your words,” Carol whispered, elbowing him. She spoke to Phil. "Trust me, he hasn't forgotten you."

"Really." Phil's gaze was speculative as he gave Clint a once-over.

“Wait,” said Stark, his eyes going huge, and oh no. “The two of you – but Agent was a – _oh my God._ ” He pointed an accusing finger at Phil. “ _You’re mild-mannered military man!_ ”

“Oh Christ,” Clint blurted without meaning to. He covered his eyes with one hand.

“Really?” he heard Phil ask. He sounded... flattered. 

Clint moved his hand a little, just enough to peek over the top of it, and found that Phil was looking at him, a little bashfully. Clint let his hand drop.

“I mean,” Phil went on, “ it sounded like me, but – it seemed kind of egotistical to assume it was about me.” He hummed a few bars of _‘You’re So Vain’_ , and in spite of himself Clint couldn’t help but laugh.

In the corner of his field of vision Clint saw Jim shepherding the others away, including a protesting Stark ( _“I can see why he never told anyone where the song came from. But Agent? Really? He was hot stuff?”_ ), to give him and Phil some privacy. Before she left Carol gave Clint an encouraging thumbs-up.

“This is really embarrassing for me,” said Clint. “Just so you know. Uh, I never expected it to be a huge hit, or anything. Carol found it in with my other songs and said it was good, and everyone else agreed. I never actually meant for it to even be recorded. It must have been weird for you, hearing it everywhere.”

Phil smiled.

“Actually, I found it rather flattering, although I was a little bemused by the admiration of the way I ironed my shirts.” Clint felt his face heating up again at the reminder of that stupid lyric, but Phil looked amused, and vaguely fond. “I always did find you attractive, you know. But at that point in my career I couldn’t afford any questions about my sexuality. It’s one of the things I like about working with SHIELD; no one gives a damn who you’re interested in.”

“Yeah?” Clint asked. He summoned up his nerve. “Who _are_ you interested in?”

Phil gave him a long, lingering look.

“I would have though that this conversation would have made that obvious.”

“Pretend I’m really slow to catch on,” Clint suggested, moving a little closer.

“In that case, let me make myself clear,” Phil replied, and closed the gap between them.

The kiss was soft and sweet, but the promise in it made Clint dizzy. It ended naturally a few moments later, and Clint found himself smiling foolishly at Phil, who looked a little dorky himself.

“You really thought I was attractive?” Clint asked. “Even though I acted like a complete moron with a giant crush?”

“I wanted to tear your clothes off with my teeth,” Phil assured him seriously.

Clint would have blushed, except that all of a sudden all of the blood was going somewhere other than his face.

“Right,” he said hoarsely, and cleared his throat. “How do you feel about dinner?”

“Dinner sounds fine,” Phil answered, looking perfectly composed again, except for the wicked twinkle in his eye that said that he knew exactly what effect his words had had on Clint. “I know a place, if you feel up to it tonight.”

“Absolutely,” Clint replied at once. “I mean, yeah. Sure. Just – let me tell the others where I’m going, okay?”

“Of course,” said Phil.

“Great. I’ll be back in a sec,” Clint promised, and walked off in a sedate and dignified manner to find the others.

The moment he was out of sight, Clint broke into a sprint.

He found the others in Thor’s dressing room, sharing a celebratory bottle of mead that Thor had produced somewhere. They all turned to look at Clint as he stuck his head in the room.

“Guys, I’ll see you later, I’m having dinner with Phil,” he explained hastily. Carol immediately wolf-whistled, and Thor toasted him with a glass of mead. Jim just grinned and joined in the toast. “Yeah, thanks guys, wish me luck.”

He jogged back to where he’d left Phil. The man was still there, patiently waiting.

“Shall we?” Phil asked. His eyes were warm.

“Yeah,” Clint grinned. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Three months later, Kate Bishop was confirmed as the new guitarist and co-lead singer of Hawkeye. The very first single the group put out with her membership was a powerful rock hit called _‘Mild-Mannered Secret Agent’_.

People wondered, of course, but only Hawkeye, Clint, and Phil knew the truth behind the song. But that was okay. No one else needed to.

 

 


End file.
